


Crash Like a Wave

by bottomlouiswriter



Series: Crash Like a Wave [1]
Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Fluff, M/M, Mpreg
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-17
Updated: 2017-08-17
Packaged: 2018-12-16 14:28:53
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,452
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11830650
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bottomlouiswriter/pseuds/bottomlouiswriter
Summary: The epitome of high school never changed.AU - Harry's the new student, Louis gets picked on. They find each other and maybe something else too.





	Crash Like a Wave

**Author's Note:**

  * For [FallingLikeThis](https://archiveofourown.org/users/FallingLikeThis/gifts).



> Hello lovelies. Sorry it's taken me so long to post. I've been kinda stuck on how I wanted to write this. Kind of have it figured out now so we should be good! Hope you enjoy but this is only the first part! I'll add more to this oneshot later!

_“No act of kindness, no matter how small, is ever wasted.”_

_Aesop, The Lion and the Mouse._

_**_

 

The epitome of high school never changed.

At least that’s what Harry told himself. It was evident that the belligerent actions of high school jocks and exclusionary principles of cliques and the stereotyped inner circles never changed. Regardless of what school you were at, or what four years you attended high school - the essence of it never changed. It was still overly crude and guided to those who fit in, and never those who dared to stand out. High school in short was a four year mandatory sentence to hell - or your glory years, depending who you were.

Being an enigmatic being didn’t decrease the level of rude and outright disgust Harry faced from his peers. Venturing from one school to another, and frequently being the new kid led Harry to be turned into an object. Like a book waiting to be read and understood by his peers. Except he was more accurately a locked book that refused to open; his concealed pages were often his downfall when people realized they wouldn’t get to read to deepest secrets of the new kid.

Torments followed and it wasn’t often that Harry fed into them. But when he did - he didn’t do it half assed - in fact he often went fist first when he had his limit of taunting from people who were once so keen on becoming his best friend - which is evidently how he wound up here. Gazing through chain links to a boy who seems just as enigmatic as himself. Perhaps it was his slight stature or maybe it was the way he walked with his eyes downcast past a group of footie players that seemed to holler words his way that only made his form fold into itself more.

Either way, for the first time in all his high school years, Harry had never been as intrigued as he was then.

*

Harry catches sight of the same boy fairly easily and without much trying. Much like Harry this boy finds the most secluded spot on the entire campus and sits by himself. Harry nearly topples over with his gangly legs and wandering gave as he can’t bring himself to look away from the beautifully breaktaking aura that surrounds this amazing boy, even as he just sits there entirely mundane.

Harry isn’t entirely sure how, but his feet seem to follow his heart better than his brain as they traipse him along the path to the tucked away table where the other boy sits. His presence casts a shadow just enough that the boy looks up, and Harry is instantly frozen. His feet can no longer move because his heart is too busy beating out of his chest, and Harry is entirely tongue tied as blue eyes look him over apprehensively. If Harry thought he was hooked this morning at the mere distant silhouette of this boy, he’s completely enraptured and ensnared now; no chance at being freed.

“May I help you?” A delicate and smooth voice interrupts the resound thumping in Harry’s ears, enough for his heart to slow - if only to match the slow roll of words of this boy’s tongue.

While the question is meant to be polite, there’s a bite to it that dictates the very nature as to how this boy is treated on a daily basis. Guard up, if not with a physical stance than with a sharp tongue and Harry feels his stomach lurch and fall a bit; disappointment seeping into his bones as he realizes this boy is inevitably not too different than himself. He’s in fact identical in the worst way - in a way that means he most likely is the frequent punch line of jokes that circle throughout the elite in the school.

“ ‘Ello,” Harry stuttered, clearing his throat anxiously as the punitive gaze of the other boy only got harsher the longer he fumbled. His awkwardness and his fumbling mannerisms gave away his lack of neutrality, and Harry found himself flushing because of it. His insides were burning with the embarrassment and the colour was surely seeping into his cheeks, but he didn’t care. He had this beautiful boy looking it, no matter how harsh, and he couldn’t contain the excitement he had being in the same vicinity as this boy.

“Ah - sorry. M’name’s Harry,” He tried again, only cringing the slightest when the boy’s glare didn’t lighten. “I’m new, figured I could sit here - if you don’t mind?”

The confusion seemed to withdraw itself from the boy, but it was quickly replaced by anger, swirling into his expression along with contempt. “Only the first day and you’re already gunning to pick on me huh?” His tone is laced with resentment and a bittersweet joke that anchors Harry’s chest in sadness.

Before Harry can refute and explain, the boy carries on, malice only dripping further into his tone. “Who put you up to this?”

“God- no one.” Harry urges his hands shooting out in front of him, as if to display his clean hands - not at all tainted by the dirty friendships of bullies. “I swear, I’m not here to tease or mock you I just genuinely wanted to sit with you. I saw you earlier just before first class and I was curious to see who you were. I was just trying to say hi,”

“Seems awfully curious that the new kid suddenly wants to be friends with the loser kid, when he could have his free pickings of what circle to join,” The tension has reduced itself from the boy’s shoulders if only by a fraction, but his expression has softened to mild curiosity with only a smidge of defense. Harry takes it as a win.

“I’m sure it’s happened to you before, but trust me I have no interest in joining those assholes,” Harry explained, inching himself closer to the seat and slowly sitting down. “I promise I won’t play nice only to be an ass in the end. S’not like me.”

It’s quiet for a moment before Louis shyly extends his hand.

“Harry was it?” Harry nods, smiling nearly to the point of looking foolish, and extends his own hand across the table. Gripping Louis’ hand delicately, Harry tries to ignore the fire the seems to course up his arm. It spreads to his cheeks and surely the rest of his body, but he doesn’t notice anything else except the gentle, sheepish smile Louis is giving him.

“M’Louis.”

Harry’s entirely sure he looks hopeless - already overly enamoured, but he can’t bring himself to care. There’s a beautiful boy in front of him, absolutely enigmatic; it already feels like fate.

Harry can’t bring himself to mind it.

 

**

They’re fast friends after that.

At least within the premise of the school grounds. It’s almost as if the allure of the new student with the regular school punching bag in the form of a charming petite boy brings a hush and a temporary halt to the insults follow both of them around. The murmurs still continue, they always do in highschool, but for once they are full of esteemed curiosity instead of cynical remarks and rumours.

For once Harry finds himself enjoying his new school. He doesn’t find his hours there monotonous anymore. Instead they’re filled with the essence of this beautiful boy, _Louis_ who never fails to surprise and amaze Harry.

Once again they’re sitting together out in the courtyard, at the same table that Harry has begun to call theirs in his head. It’s soothing to be out there, away from the chaotic inner walls of the school. It’s almost like the hour long lunch period has become a secret reprieve for Harry, and if the way Louis’ shoulders seem to slump away defenselessly, Harry would think it’s a much needed and welcomed break for him too.

Leaning elbows down onto the table, Louis carries on with their usual casual conversation, like they do everyday. It’s the only time during the day that Harry sees the creases of a frown alleviate from the other boy’s face. It’s refreshing to see Louis’ face unmarred by hurt or frustration from their peers.

But for the first time, the words that fall from his mouth hold a little more seriousness to them then their usual chatter.

“Why’d you decide to come here?”

The words hang heavy for more than a few moments and Harry has to school his face into a twisted, awry smile. It’s a little pained, but mostly tainted with regret. His past is something he claims full responsibility for, though he claims it with hands swarmed in guilt. It’s not his favourite thing to talk about, usually far from it, but as is everything with Louis’, Harry finds it easy to answer.

“Got kicked from school to school because I kept on starting fights. Never liked rumours and eventually I had enough with the people who kept causing them.”

Louis raises his brow with a playful smirk on his face. “Tough guy huh?”

Chuckling to himself genuinely, Harry shakes his head. “Only once and awhile.”

There’s a brief pause before Harry has the courage to return the question.

“Why are you always getting shit from people around school?”

This time when Louis raises his eyebrows it's in surprise. “You haven’t heard yet.”

It should be phrased like a question but it's a statement and they both know it. Louis’ face fades from surprised to understanding within seconds and Harry finds himself confused.

Louis’ tone becomes condescendingly hurtful, nearly painfully so that his words once again tug on Harry’s heart strings. “Not many people are overly fond of the flamboyant, or self-assured type. I’m a mixture of both which pisses off a lot of people.” Self-deprecatingly Louis adds, “Among a few other things.”

“So they give you shit because you’re gay and don’t care what they think about it? They’re like that because you don’t want to be like them? Seriously?” Harry’s confusion has ebbed into angry. Unfiltered and scathing anger that has him nearly rosy in the cheeks.  

Smiling, tight lipped Louis nods, ducks his head as small burst of rouge blot his cheeks. “That, among other things like I said.”

Harry’s voice is sure and strong, even as he reaches out gently, almost unsure to squeeze Louis’ hand. “What other things?”

Abruptly Louis throws his head back, laughing without preamble enough to knock the look of determination of Harry’s face. “Nice try curly.” Meeting the softened and friendly green eyes of the startled and confused boy, Louis shakes his head. “I like you too much to tell you. Don’t want to get rid of you so easily Harry.”

Harry goes to reassure, to profess without preamble that nothing that comes out of Louis’ mouth would be able to rip him away. No confession or admission would be too brutally honest that Harry would feel the tingle in his feet and his brain that would tell him to run. He wants to yell desperately that he is entirely too enamoured with the brightness that surrounds Louis to leave -

But instead he nods his head and squeezes their hands together tighter. He doesn’t want to push and from the softening in Louis’ shoulders and the reassuring brush of a thumb against his own hand he can tell it’s the right move. That Louis appreciates his lack of request for a more detailed explanation or a greater response. Harry can tell simply from the small smile that graces Louis’ features that there’s a greater feeling than thankfulness lingering in his bones, and Harry himself thinks he feels it too.

Just before the bell for the second half of the day rings, Louis catches Harry’s eye while gently pulling away his hand from beneath Harry’s.

“You’ll figure it out soon enough.”

Tone soft but still self deprecating and washed over with foreboding sadness, Louis practically rips his hand out the rest of the way and divulges in longer strides as if to leave Harry’s presence sooner.

Harry doesn’t think his heart could hurt anymore than in that moment.

 

**

Harry figured it out three days later.

It’s not hard to piece things together when nearly every hour someone is murmuring the same rumour that always began with Louis’ name. Harry ignores it for the first two days, adamant to resist the temptations of highschool rumours - after all he’s been the topic of them far too often - but there’s a tugging at his ear, begging him to listen in just once to the words that follow Louis’ name. He tells himself it’s mild curiosity, but it’s more than that; his curiosity skyrocketed instantly with Louis’ cryptic words.

Harry’s brain wanders from secret inappropriate affairs to an unknown badboy image, but neither seem to stick. The improbability of both when compared to Louis’ vigour and personality is stark and Harry finds himself continually wondering.

Until he eavesdrops and it clicks.

It shouldn’t be surprising, but somehow it still is.

**

He brings Louis’ ginger tea the next afternoon for when they’re at lunch. It’s supposed to help, with the symptoms or at least that’s what google had told him. He doesn’t really know for sure and no matter how much he tried, he couldn’t bring himself to ask his mum for advice on this one particular topic.

He’s a bundle of nerves waiting at the edge of his seat when he sees Louis wandering over. As always his aura is glowing, effervescent almost but for the first time Harry brings himself to question and realize why that might be. There’s the width of his hips that makes his walk more sultry than it should be, and again Harry makes himself acknowledge why that could possibly be.

 _Pregnant_.

The word felt stagnant and odd even in his brain let alone when Harry had quietly murmured the word to himself last night. It’s heavy on his tongue and rolls off it without ease but the more it loops through his head the more it makes sense. He hated attributing anything to rumours but this one fit a little too perfectly to fall flat. It made sense, and Harry hated that it did.

The minute Louis sits down Harry feels tense and knows Louis can sense it too. He feels bad, angry at himself that his body won’t relax, high strung on the knowledge and possible truth behind the rumour his ears picked up just yesterday. The mug of tea in his hand suddenly feels to hot, that his has to pull his hands away and tuck them nervously underneath his legs. It’s a nervous habit and an obvious one at that and almost instantly Louis’ eyes suddenly feel too scathing to meet.

He still tries though.

There’s anger in his eyes but it’s closely backed by hesitation, hand in hand with fear, the one that pulls your heart down to your stomach and in that moment Harry understands why. For the first time since speaking to this amazing boy, Harry understands his reservations because it’s probably not the first time he’s been turned away or shamed for something that’s nobody else’s business. He understands what Louis meant when there was more to the hate he received other than just being the overly flamboyant kid at the back of the class. He was - possibly - the flamboyant, pregnant, and uncaring individual in the back of the class, which came with more labels, more difficulty to fit in.

Harry smiles, but even without a mirror he can tell it’s bleak. It feels more like a grimace than anything else and he can’t help the trepidation that lingers in his face. It’s evident that he knows, and he see’s Louis’ face fall even further. The weak smile Louis offers him in a large gesture of strength brings Harry’s heart to the floor, weak and barely palpitating, overloaded with sadness.

“Hey Lou,” His voice barely works. The words come out scratchy and all wrong but Harry still tries to make up for it with a smile, this one looking more sincere.

“Hey.” Louis’ voice is reminiscent of the first time they talked, guarded and hesitant, and instantly Harry hates it. Hates that they’ve resorted back to this odd sort of halted conversation, as if they haven’t just spent weeks talking like old friends.

Nervously, Harry extends the mug of tea with a wobbly smile. He hopes it helps break the ice that has once again turned solid between them. “Brought you some tea, figured you might like it.”

Gently Louis goes to bring it to his lips but the strong smell of the ginger must reach his nose first because a snarl takes over his features and his entire body goes rigid. He looks up at Harry tight lipped and expression terse.

“So you know.”

Harry’s meek expression and blaringly red face must give him away because Louis slams the thermos down onto the table and hurries to leave. Fumbling to maneuver the lid back onto the thermos and his gangly limbs out from underneath the table Harry nearly loses sight of Louis.

Hope nearly drops through his stomach, but he catches Louis last minute as he rounds  the corner of the west wing of the school and Harry doesn’t think he’s ever been more thankful for his long legs in all his life. Hope and eagerness cling to his bones as he hurries to follow the boy that is clearly keen on running away.

For the amount of space Louis put between them Harry makes it up in seconds and urges his body to not shy away from the angry and afraid look Louis shoots over his shoulder when he catches sight of Harry.

Heart rabbiting in his chest Harry grabs Louis wrist and gently brings him to a halt, urging him to turn around. Louis turns without much persuading so Harry counts it as a win, but there’s still a hesitant look in his eye and his stance remains defensive. Harry hates that so quickly Louis thinks he’s out to hurt him. Hates how Louis has this expectation as a reaction to the rumour - or apparent truth now - that Harry picked up in the hallway.

“I know you think I care about the rumours enough to ditch you Lou, but I swear I don’t.” Harry hedged watching carefully as Louis shifted nervously on the balls of his feet, clearly ready to run again if he sees fit.

“I’m sure your gut is telling you to walk away because you think I’m going to hurt you or call you things but I’m not like that. I was trying to show you that I still support you even if the rumours are true, s’why I brought you the tea. I heard it helps.”

Harry offers his hand out with the thermos like it’s supposed to help relieve the tension that’s separating them with a five foot pole. It doesn’t, Louis still eyes it suspiciously but his feet settle soundly into the cement of the sidewalk and Harry lets his shoulder’s release from their tense hold. He sighs heavily, before offering the tea again to Louis. It’s surprising when Louis reduces the distance between them to a small distance, so small their toes are nearly touching, and gingerly grabs the thermos out of Harry’s hand.

“My gut isn’t telling me to run.” Louis admits quietly. It’s meek but the blush on his cheeks assure Harry of their truth. Harry smiles to himself a little, a gentle tug at the corner of his mouth before he hedges in a little closer, cautiously grasping at the tips of Louis fingers by his side before sliding their hands together more firmly.

Their fingers link together, just as Louis fixes his gaze onto Harry’s, and for a moment it’s almost too much. The gentle grasp of Louis’ fingers within his and the steady onslaught of bright blue eyes, and Harry nearly has to back away from the intensity of it all. He stays and it must instill a sense of trust because Louis’ thumb begins to swipe patterns around the top of his hand and Harry can’t bring himself to stop the caring smile on his face.

“Then why did you?” Harry asks quietly. It fills the space as if he had said it at normal volume and he cringes a little, but it doesn’t seem to bother Louis who simply shrugs.

“The uncaringly gay, pregnant boy at school isn’t likely to meet a lot of understanding or genuine people, especially in high school. It’s easier to run or leave people behind then slowly be pushed away because the person you once thought was a friend is actually just an ass.”

Harry nods reassuringly. He knows the feeling; it’s happened enough for him to get physical with people that did exactly what Louis just explained - enough for him to get kicked from school to school.  

“I swear I’m not like that.” Harry assures, trying with every being in his body to ensure sincerity cloaks his words. “I may have gotten the tea thing wrong but that’s just cause I didn’t want to ask my mum a weirdly worded hypothetical question when I didn’t even know if it was true. I wanted to hear from you first, before I went off the wall with asking my mum for advice.”

Louis giggles at that, shaking his head as he ducks it so his chin is close to his chest. Without questioning himself, Harry tugs at the Louis’ hand still attached to his and pulls him into his chest with it. Louis comes easily, if not surprised, the thermos digging in a bit awkwardly against Harry’s ribs from how Louis is hugging him but it’s still good. The feeling of this wonderful boy in his arms and the way he contently nuzzles into Harry’s chest is exactly what they both seem to need. It’s jarring to realize how complete he feels, how easily his heart settles where it’s supposed to be and soothes itself into the same rhythm of Louis’ breathing. It feels natural; it probably shouldn’t but it does and Harry just hugs Louis harder.

Gingerly Louis pulls away and he smiles coyly at Harry.

“Thank you for kind of asking me about it before you went off and asked your mum about weird pregnancy hacks.” Louis laughs as he says it, eyeing Harry fondly as he gestures to the tea in his hand. “But it does help, y’know with the whole -”

“- Being pregnant thing?” Harry finishes, sensing Louis’ hesitation. His ability to say it without flinching because Louis nods once again and smiles genuinely at Harry.

“Yeah, the whole being pregnant thing. I usually run out of tea before lunch time so I feel nauseous for the rest of the day. Should help me get through till the end of the day at least, so thank you Harry.”

This time it’s Harry’s turn to smile and nod his head, genuinely happy his internet research last night helped, no matter how foolish he had felt. “I’ll bring you some more tomorrow at lunch.”

Louis looks surprised at that, enough that it splinters throughout his face and his eyebrows raise. “You will?”

There’s a hidden question behind it, like he’s questioning if Harry truly cares enough to stick around. Harry hears it and smiles even wider. Stepping in he squeezes Louis’ hand once, letting it linger for a moment longer than he probably needs to, before begin to walk backwards the way he came, a small smug smile etched in his face.

“Definitely.”

**

It’s a few days later, and Harry still finds himself a little unsure of what to say and do around Louis.

The other boy is kind and patient enough to understand Harry’s reservations as not to upset him, but it apparently becomes unnecessary when Louis rolls his eyes at Harry while they’re sitting at lunch. Harry’s antsy, eager to ask Louis some questions about the pregnancy, but more importantly he’s eager to ask Louis over to his place. Something that shouldn’t stir his stomach with newly awakened butterflies, but it does.

Harry hears Louis sigh exasperatedly, before he feels a slight nudge against his own foot. Instantly from where he was focused intently on his food, his head shoots up and he’s met with Louis questioning and curious gaze. As always the saturation of Louis’ eyes and the overall intensity of expression from his face makes Harry’s heart palpitate insanely, probably more than what is healthy for an average teenage boy. Harry doesn’t think he minds though, if he gets to watch the fierce curiosity in Louis’ face fade into a gentler questions. His eyes crinkle just enough when he smiles that Harry finds himself smiling back just simply for the cuteness in Louis’ face before he smiles for a whole other reason.

“What’s wrong with you today curly?” It’s a prodding question, which is what has out of Louis’ mouth a lot the past few days. Since Harry had enough courage to approach Louis about the rumours it’s like Louis had found his own courage to ask questions about the rumours circulating about Harry. Each lunch period has been like a friendly interrogation - if those existed - but Harry for once didn’t mind the prying. He was happy to be lenient and allow Louis to flip through him like a book, because Louis was gentle about it; abating Harry’s fears of sharing his past with stories of his own. It was the closest thing Harry had to assurance and a friend in years.

Glumly Harry shook his head, ducking it shyly when Louis raised an eyebrow at him like he knew Harry was lying - he was.

Sighing exasperated, Harry pushed his tray of food away before setting his utensils down and  knitting his hands together in front of his plate. He caught Louis’ eye mumbling blearily as he did. “Would it be weird to ask you to come over after school?”

It seemed to be a funny question if the way a laugh startled itself out of Louis was any indication but Louis caught himself before it could turn into hysterics and shook his head. “Don’t know why you’d think that’s a weird question Harry.”

“I don’t know,” Harry replies sulkily. He’s got this ridiculous frown on his face and he knows it, but he can’t bring himself to care and he watches the amusement spread across Louis’ face. “You said you’re usually pretty exhausted after school so you usually nap. Didn’t know if it’d screw with your schedule or something.”

“As long as I’m laying down in some joggers I’m usually fine curly.” Louis admonishes gently and with a giggle at the tip of his tongue. It’s amusing to watch the way expression flits through Louis’ face like a rainbow of different emotions. Harry thinks it’s his favourite thing so far. “Think your bed will do just as fine as mine. And I could borrow some joggers if you don’t mind?”

He ignores the evident question in Louis’ voice about the borrowing of clothing, instead he chooses to focus on Louis coming over, Louis laying his bed, just simply being able to spend more time with the beautiful boy. Harry feels the nerves in his stomach fade away and instead his chest rabbits with anticipation. “So is that a yes?”

Louis nods his head without hesitation and Harry feels like his insides are soaring while still tucked safely inside his chest.

“That’s a yes curly.”

**

They walk back to Harry’s.

Harry asks Louis roughly ten times if the twenty minute walking distance is too much for him to handle and Louis not so kindly shoves his shoulder and tells him to ‘fuck off curly’. It still makes Harry smile because he has yet to find something that Louis does to not be awe inducing. Spreading happiness like drugs through his veins.

The walk if good natured, and for once enjoyable. Harry finds the twenty minutes simply feel like two when they’ve walked side by side, chatting idly, with the occasional - possibly purposeful on Harry’s part - brushing of hands that curiously leaves Louis’ cheeks a lovely dusty pink. They arrive at Harry’s door before either realize, and they simply walk in.

The cars were gone, most likely meaning both his mum and his stepdad had to work a little later than usual, and Harry doesn’t think he’s ever been more thankful for his parent’s demanding bosses. It’s relaxed as Harry turns the key to get in, being courteous enough to let Louis’ through first, before shuffling inside himself.

Louis looks around first, not bothering to remove his shoes or the heavy rucksack from his shoulders. He seems enamoured which Harry has come to realize is a familiar reaction when people enter his house. His mum has made it her favourite hobby to start and continually add pictures to the large wall in the entry that it is now thoroughly covered from over the years so much so it’s started to edge itself onto the walls perpendicular to it.

Harry has to admit there’s a slight burn to the tips of his ears when he finds Louis’ gaze stuck on a picture of him from three years ago, even more awkwardly limbed and odd looking than he is now. It’s from his sister’s graduation before she left for uni, his entire family flanking Gemma as they pose for the typical family photo post graduation. It’s a horrible photo but it’s all the wall for pride not for product and Harry likes that the wall and all it’s stories captures Louis; attention because for once it allows Harry to look without shying away.

It’s merely moments that Harry’s left to stare unabashedly before Louis’ toeing off his shoes and stepping to face towards Harry again. His features are soft and perhaps showing some of his tiredness, but he still has enough energy to pull a smile for Harry.

Harry feels grateful and lets his face stretch into a smile all his own to return for Louis. They stare for a moment - Harry can’t help it, words escape him often when he’s faced with the wonderful aura of this boy - before Louis disturbs the peace by pulling the bag off his shoulders and letting it thump to the floor.

“So is that-”

“Do you want-”

They start and stop speaking simultaneously and it brings heartier grins to each of their faces.  They say sorries in tandem and it only makes the air between them thicker with humour and Harry easily finds himself indulging when Louis urges him to speak.

“I was going to ask if you wanted to go upstairs and lay down.” Harry admits, running his hands through his hair absentmindedly. “You just - you’re usually tired and you look a little exhausted so I figured I should ask-”

“Harry, love.” Louis hedges, smiling and stepping forward to grab Harry’s hand. Harry doesn’t think he can breath, air caught in his lungs, not moving as his ears ring and his hand tingles - both just simply because of Louis. Louis squeezes his hand, once again making Harry’s heart thud more heavy than it should, and goes to drag him, before realizing he doesn’t know where.

“You were rambling.” He shrugs like it’s obvious and Harry supposes it is, but he can’t help the way he tracks Louis movements no matter how obvious. He eyes the dip of Louis shoulder when it falls back into it’s relaxed stature from the shrug and easily follows the prominent line of his collarbones back up to his face. He doesn’t dare bring his eyes lower than that, lest Louis be tracking him, but he wants to. Instead he fixes his eyes heavily onto Louis’ and smiles when he sees happiness reflecting back at him.

“Going to lie down sounds great love, but I need a bit of direction here.” His lips quirk up crinkling his right cheek the slightest bit and once again Harry finds himself endeared.

“Right.” Harry mumbles, trying to sway himself back from Louis’ face and in the right direction to his room. It takes a moment before he’s able to twirl around and tow Louis’ with him, but he does so regardless and they soon find themselves up the stairs and in the bedroom, second door on the left.

Louis, usually hesitant in everything he does, makes his first steps into the room over towards the bed. It's a relief to Harry. He wasn’t entirely sure if they would just stand there awkwardly before Harry would guide Louis over to the bed or if Louis would simply decide this was a bad idea after all and leave. Louis doesn’t leave, doesn’t even hesitate to settle himself on Harry’s bed before he looks at the owner of the bed himself and smiles so incredibly fond.

Harry sure he looks just as smitten but he doesn’t make to move anywhere but beside Louis. His hand shakes as he reaches out for Louis’ but he doesn’t feel the tremors control his hand when Louis’ squeezes his hand back, before scooting back on the bed. His back rests against Harry’s headboard and Harry moves to sit in front of his where their knees are almost touching. Before Harry can’t stop his own hand it settles on Louis’ leg, and he feels the jump of surprise in Louis’ leg but when he glances up at Louis’ face there isn’t a sense of surprise. It’s perhaps a butterfly sort of feeling, that appears to be mutual from the way both their cheeks bloom with pink.

“Got any questions curly?” There’s a teasing lilt to his voice but it doesn’t go louder than a whisper. Tentative to break the aura that seems to surround them both.

“Yeah actually.” Harry admits softly. There have been questions scratching up his throat since he found out Louis was pregnant days ago but he’d swallowed them down out of common courtesy. But the question seems open ended enough that Harry allows them to fall out of his mouth, surprised when Louis doesn’t seem surprised.

“How far along are you?” The words feel thick enough to clog his throat, enough that his voice sounds odd and he feels horrible for the reacting twist of Louis’ face. Surprisingly he hadn’t asked this question yet. He’d refrained from anything other than simple questions ensuring that Louis was feeling okay that day or that how the ginger tea was helping with the morning sickness, but he hadn’t asked specifically about the pregnancy. He’d only asked about the symptoms.

“Like already almost four months.” Louis smiles happily, his hands flit briefly towards his stomach before remembering that Harry’s in the room and settling them back against his thighs. “Fifteen weeks in a couple days.”

Surprised blooms in Harry’s chest before it tightens with the knowledge. “You’re already that far along? You aren’t even showing.”

Louis smiles and shakes his head. “I am, actually. I’m always wearing baggy shirts so you don’t see it.” Hesitantly Louis shimmies closer, hands going onto Harry’s thighs as he does, before he looks at him. “I can show you - or you can feel, if you want.”

Harry’s eyes must widen to the point of looking like disks while his mouth stays closed, and he is beyond surprised at the offer. He must looked scared because Louis hurries to move away but Harry scrambles himself to urge Louis to stay. He holds Louis’ wrist where they’ve stayed on his legs and he tries to ease his face to show his genuine giddiness.

“I’d love to Lou, honestly.”

Louis sighs, relieved, and nods his head. Shimmying down the bed, Louis settles his legs across Harry’s lap and lays down, anxiously toying with the hem of his shirt. He slowly lifts it, releasing a heavy breath as he does, and Harry finds himself holding his. He’s anxious, hands going to cover the expanse that Louis uncovers and he finds himself in awe.

When Louis had released his breath, he let his stomach relax and it was easy to see how Harry hadn’t noticed the bump before. Louis clearly tried to hide it as much as possible but it was clear without the mask of baggy clothing that there was definitely something there - a _someone_ , more accurately.

“I love babies.” Harry mutters senselessly. His hands want to hurry and cover the area where Louis is so obviously carrying, but he waits until he sees Louis nod his head. “My older cousin just had a baby, and I was enamoured, I can’t even lie.”

“Is that so?”

Harry nods his head, though it’s obvious from the way his gaze doesn’t shift from Louis’ stomach - or more accurately his baby bump. Louis takes his hand and gently lifts it to lay just below his bellybutton and Harry can’t help the way air escapes him. He feels senseless; like his body can’t process what he feels underneath his hand. It’s stronger than what Harry expected, firm underneath his calloused fingers and he can’t help how he reverently thumbs across Louis’ bellybutton, enamoured that he’s feeling a _baby_ underneath his hand. But not just anyone’s baby - this golden, and wonderful boy’s baby and he can’t help how brightly he smiles.

“Do you know what you’re having yet?”

“No.” Louis shakes his head, gnawing at his lip while Harry moves his hand across to his hip. “I’m going to find out in a few weeks. Hopefully at eighteen weeks.”

“That’s great Lou.”

“I think so too.”

They both remain quiet for an unmeasured amount of time because they both seem keen to let the time pass without counting it. It’s relaxing, as much as it shouldn’t be. Just stroking your pregnant best friends bump, when you’ve only know each other for a number of weeks. It shouldn’t have felt natural or put either of them at ease, but it does.

Louis nearly looks ready to pass out, and Harry would be happy to let him. Louis forces his eyes open from their half-lidded state and Harry finds that he doesn’t have to make an effort to meet Louis’ eyes because he’d already been locked on the other boy’s face to begin with. He fumbles to mutter an apology but Louis places his hand over Harry’s across his bump.

“Can I tell you?” Louis asks him quietly, squeezing Harry’s hand as he does when he gets a confused look. “In a couple weeks, when I figure out the gender of the baby, can I tell you?”

Harry feels a bit woozy once the words set in, overloaded with how much trust is encased in that single question and he feels gratefulness bloom in his bones. He nods his head reverently, thumb stroking once again over Louis’ bellybutton before searching for his voice.

It comes but it’s hushed, so much so that it’s barely even a whisper but it carries enough to reach Louis’ ears.

“Of course Lou.” Harry assures, sliding his hand to grasp at Louis’ t-shirt and pull it down to cover his surely cold stomach, before securing his hand back at the boys hip. Adjusting his hand, Harry makes sure his thumb is still close enough to stroke against the side of Louis’ bump and he smiles warmly at the other boy, both of them nearly asleep.

“I’d be honoured.”

 

**

Harry found himself even more enamoured with Louis than before if that was even completely possible.

It was partially due to the time they spent together and entirely due to how Louis had allowed himself to _trust_ with Harry. There was less hesitancy each time words slipped from either of their mouths. Their talks, whether personal or basic, were laced with assurance and growing fondness. Each gesture that accompanied their talks were loaded with trust and definitely involved more than neutrality.

Harry didn’t think he could view Louis as any brighter than he has first did, but each time Louis decided to grab Harry’s hand just to play with the rings that adorned his fingers or how easily he had allowed himself to make Harry’s things his own, Harry found himself drowning further in the glow that surrounded Louis. More than a few times in the short three weeks since Louis had first come over Harry had found the boy relaxed in borrowed clothes from his closet. The lack of boundaries between them in such little time was off and probably not healthy, but Harry found himself not caring when Louis would smile at him coyly lounged in Harry’s favourite oversized sweater and his bed.

It shouldn’t be this easy to find his chest bursting with fondness and happiness, but Harry found that it was. The blooming love that encased his heart was frightening, but Harry for once didn’t mind the lingering fear in his stomach. It was certainly outweighed by fond whenever Louis looked his way.

**

Its two hours after Louis had gone to his check up that he shows up at Harry’s door.

Harry wouldn’t admit it, but the two hours had dragged on. He found himself constantly checking his phone, practically bouncing off the walls with nerves and excitement as time ticked down to when Louis was at his door.

It was supposed to be simple, Louis showing up to his to let him know if he was having a girl or a boy, but instead Louis had showed up with a box and a hearty smile, briefly hugging Harry before he slide inside. Before Harry could even realize, the boy was bounded onto the couch and eagerly shaking the box. He was staring at Harry with pure happiness in his eyes and Harry couldn’t help but smile back. Louis gestured quickly, waving his hand before bringing it down to pat at the seat by his side.

“C’mon.” Louis smiles heartily, shaking the box in his hand again. “I got me mum to buy a baby outfit based on the gender on the slip of paper I got from the doctor today. Wanted to open it with you though, said I’d tell you anyway but I think this is more fun.”

Harry thinks he briefly sees Louis’ eyes glisten with tears but it’s gone with a quick blink and Harry can’t bring himself to ask because Louis is nearly vibrating out of his seat with his excitement.

“D’you want me to video it?”

Louis ponders it for a moment before he shakes his head, biting his lip. “I want it to just be us.” Louis murmurs, placing his hand on Harry’s knee and squeezing. “If that’s okay with you?”

Harry places his hand over Louis and nods his head. He has half a mind to place a hand on Louis’ hip and thumb across his stomach - which has only grown since the first time Harry had seen it - but he waits. Instead he urges Louis’ hand off his knee and instead onto the box. “It’s your gender reveal Lou, up to you.”

Louis hums, quietly just to himself before he turns to his lap and stares resolutely at the box. Harry finds himself placing his hand on Louis’ knee this time, eager to provide support for Louis as the boy thumbs across the box top.

“Yeah I guess it is huh?” Louis smiles up at Harry before looking back quickly at the box and beginning to thumb at the box opening.

“You ready?”

“Maybe.” Louis answers wryly, his lips twisted into a small grimace as he squeezes at Harry’s hand against his knee. “I don’t know. Feels more permanent that I’m becoming a parent once I know if I’m having a daughter or a son.”

“I bet it does.” Harry tries to entertain the idea of how difficult it must be to process but he can’t truly imagine. His only sense of surreal is that his new best friend is becoming a parent and that in now way can compare to the bizarre feeling that must linger in Louis chest.

“I already have names picked out you know?” Louis hedges, laughing slightly to himself a little too hesitantly. Harry wishes he didn’t hear the weariness in Louis’ voice, wishes longingly that Louis wasn’t worried about showing his eagerness about everything regarding the baby. He knots their hands together and aims to fuel excitement back to Louis through their linked hands.

“Yeah love?”

Louis nods his head. “I started looking at baby names like a couple weeks after I figured out I was pregnant. I’ve had them stuck into my head since I actually started looking into it.”

Louis swallows heavily as he squeezes at Harry hand, eagerness vibrating through his body and working it’s way into his voice. “Norah definitely for a girl cause it’s always been a favourite of mine. Undecided about the middle names though-”

“I’ll help you with that.” Harry butts in before he can’t stop himself. He easily blushes and ducks his head but he can feel Louis’ eyes lingering on his face and Harry can tell there’s a smile on his face when he does answer.

“Yeah?” He questions though the answer is obvious. “I’d love that H.”

“Yeah?” Harry echoes, eyebrows lifting, smile stretching his cheeks where a blush lingers. “I’d be happy to help you out with anything Lou, especially with your baby.”

This time it’s Louis’ turn to flush, his ears tipped red and Harry can’t help the way his smile widens easily, a genuine smirk replacing his fond smile.

“Anyway.” Louis hedges, eager to tame his rosy cheeks but it stays constant the way Harry’s eyes stay glued to his face.

“I figured probably Elias, Eli for short if it’s a boy.”

“Those are both nice names Lou.”

“Yeah I thought so too.” Louis smiles, smoothing his hand across the box, hand shaking just the slightest.

Moving from the couch to kneel on the floor, Harry shuffles his body to linger in front of Louis. He feels the slight tremors running through Louis’ legs, knees bouncing even as Harry tries to place his hands there to settle them. On top of the box, Louis’ hand linger with slight shakes and he can’t seem to stop staring at the centre of the box like he’s going to be able to tell just through the white substance holding the little outfit that will tell him if he’s having a son or a daughter.

Even Harry feels nerves shake his bones as he thumbs across the box, though he plasters on an encouraging expression. “Open it Lou.” Harry murmurs, hands gliding up to settle on Louis’ thighs. “Let’s see Lou. Norah or Elias right?”

Sighing heavily, Louis nods. “Norah or Elias.”

Though Louis’ hands shake as he goes to open the box, he tears into it with vigour, opening to the top and setting it to the side quickly before he moves the tissue paper across to reveal the itty-bitty outfit inside.

Instantly Louis gasps, head darting up to gaze at Harry with tears already sliding down his cheeks and Harry can understand why. There’s disbelief surrounding both of them, overwhelmed and carefree.

Grasping the sides of Harry’s face Louis laughs obnoxious and delighted, smiling so wide. Hands flying to Louis waist Harry breathes out, squeezing quickly before his hands flit quickly to encase Louis’ stomach. He thumbs across the expanse before gliding his entire hand to hold Louis’ bump.

“ _Norah,_ ” Harry whispers, grinning so incredibly wide and shaking his head. “God Lou, you’re having a daughter.”

Louis let’s out a genuine sob, beaming as he threads his fingers deep into Harry’s hair, gripping as if he’s grounding himself. And Harry - Harry can’t help the way he leans in without hesitation and seals his lips over Louis’. It’s quick and a fleeting touch of lips, but he feels his heart hammering from the slightest contact and he can’t help the way his smile widens. His one hand cradles Louis’ bump, running over it reverently while he leans his forehead against Louis’.

Louis cards his fingers through Harry’s hair further, bringing one hand to cup the side of Harry’s cheek.

“Norah Tomlinson does sound pretty good huh?”

“Yeah it does Lou.” Harry whispers. He hums, still leaning his forehead against Louis’. “You’re going to be such a good parent Lou. You’re daughter is already so lucky.”

He hears Louis sniffle, feels Louis’ forehead crinkle against his as he frowns. “I sure as hell hope so.”

Harry snorts, bringing his hand to settle against Louis’ cheek. “Norah is going to have the best dad in the world. Not doubt about it.”

Louis smiles, happy to hear the reassurance before he hesitantly leans in and gently pecks Harry’s lips. They stare at each other for a few simple seconds before Louis is pulling away and laughing whole-heartedly.

“Get up here, let's look at this cute outfit.”

Harry nods even though he doesn’t want to move from where he is, so entirely wrapped up in Louis’ wonderful aura, but he still forces his legs to move. His knees ache a little too much for how little time he had spent on the floor, but he ignores it when he sees Louis’ face light up more -if that’s even possible- as he settles on the couch. Harry hears Louis huff heavily, before he feels his own arm being lifted and a body settled into the side of his own. He’s surprised and the indignant grunt he makes gives it away, but Louis just settles his head against Harry’s chest and grabs the box filled with the gorgeous summer dress.

The dress is fluffy, but a delicate periwinkle blue. There’s white, and yellow flowers edging around the bottom and there’s white ballet flats sitting in the bottom of the box to match and Harry doesn’t think anything else could be cute.

He’s corrected when Louis pulls out the dress to reveal a onesie underneath. It’s pretty neutral compared to the dress, a blush pink with a monogramed capital T in the middle, obviously for her last name and this time Louis actually does let a few tears slip.

“God this is all so perfect.”

This time it’s Louis’ who grabs his hand and places it on his bump. Louis marvels at the clothes in his hands and probably the realization that he has a _daughter_. While Harry marvels at the feeling of Louis’ daughter underneath his palm and the reassuring pressure of Louis’ palm against his own.

He’s enamoured. And he’s pretty sure he’s in love.

But not just with one person. With this beautiful boy and his daughter.

  



End file.
